Лёд
by Kentra Kohama
Summary: "You are my sunlight, and only you can melt the ice around my heart." A RusAme fanfic. Ice skating AU, human names used, yaoi, mature, bladiblah. Read it for more detail or become one with Russia, da?
1. You

**My profile is outta touch with my life. I'm too lazy to go back and fix it right this moment, but I'll say so here: I recently/semi-recently discovered Hetalia and am in love with it. IN LOVE. I also happen to ship the world with the world. I do have an OTP, though. As you may have guessed, it is, in fact, the wonderful pairing of RusAme. (Russia/America, for any who don't know the shortened version.)**

**I also love RoChu, RusPrus, RusGer, RusCan, RusEng... I just like Russia with everyone, okay? I also like England dominating like the bad-ass he is. And Canada has his own special place in my heart.**

**Anyway, I had this idea while writing for this thing called "NaNoWriMo". To all who've never heard of it: For all who have heard of it and are striving for the finishline, I brofist you and send you a virtual hug. In my crackfiction, I have an entire scene dedicated to Russia being a bad ass figure skater. And then I was like, "THIS WOULD MAKE A GOOD SMUTTY/FLUFFY/CUDDLY STORY!"**

**So then I opened a new Word thing, slacked off my Nano word count like a bad girl, and wrote this. Enjoy it, please? XD (The title, Лёд, is said "lyot" with a soft **_**d**_** sound. It's Russian for Ice. Aren't I bad-ass for coming up with this?)**

**I do not own Hetalia. If I did, Russia would be shirtless at all time.**

**Warnings: Yaoi, human names used, human AU, smut in the future**

-Chapter One: _You_

It was chilly. Too cold to really be out and about. But it wasn't like he had a choice. After a long chewing out about the way he'd handled a fight at the bar from his strict German boss, he had endured scrubbing dishes with the two most annoying Italians in existence. Shaking his head to rid his fluffy golden locks of their light dusting of snow, he stepped out from under the pine tree beside the bus stop.

"Looks like they closed the roads," Alfred F. Jones mused, pulling his muffs out of his pocket and clapping them over his ears, sighing in relief. His old bomber jacket made a soft swish as he turned and headed down the road. "If this keeps up, I might be able to get a day offa school..." His army surplus boots crunched through the fresh snow. It had fallen so suddenly, so beautifully. Not many things caught his attentions, but snow was always something he admired.

Glancing around, he watched all the shops close up early. It was the same thing Ludwig, the bartender of the _Silver Cross_ and his boss, had just done. Basically kicking everyone out and seeing his staff off like a nervous mother hen was one of his many little quirks Alfred found endearing despite himself. He wanted to check his watch, but his fingers were slowly freezing off in his coat pockets, so he decided against it.

_I just need a spot to warm up,_ he thought, looking around frantically and only getting dark store fronts. He coughed and sniffed hard, groaning loudly. "Damn it, warm place, where are you...?" Maybe he'd end up like the little match girl or something. That's suck a ton. Hero might starve, 'cuz Tony didn't have a steady job. Alfred scanned the area and nearly collapsed in relief. Right across the street was an old ice skating rink he'd frequented when he was younger. And it looked like it was still open.

He snapped his head, making a beeline for it once he'd cleared the street. His breath was coming out in little puffs of steam, mocking him and the sharp pains in his cold feet. Out of habit, he raised a gloved hand, swearing, to knock lightly on the glass. After getting no response, he slowly pressed against the metal bar and entered the old rink. "Hello? Any one here? Or is this place haunted?"

Alfred was immediately assailed by a pair of gargantuan breasts when a woman embraced him almost instantly. She backed off when he weakly tried to push his back. _Wow, uh... tits..._ was all his brain really processed until she began speaking with a really weird accent. It wasn't bad, it was just weird. "You are customer, maybe?" He shook his head, and her slim shoulders slumped, "Oh... Am very sorry for hug."

The blonde waved his hands, "Uh, no, no, it's fine. I just came in to warm up." The girl turned away, looking as if she was on the verge of tears. "Do you have any food or something?" At that word, she perked up immediately and nodded quickly, grabbing his arm and practically skipping towards the rink. Pointing to the counter where a young man who appeared to be a year or so older then he was, she motioned towards her mouth and turned, yelling something in a foreign language.

Deciding to not ask, he ran his hand through his flawlessly blonde hair and jogged over to the concession stand of sorts. The guy looked up, in the middle of stacking paper bowl-plates and counting them. He set his clipboard down, tilted his little paper hat to the side at a jaunty angle and grinned widely, "What can the awesome me do for you?" Alfred nearly tackled the albino. He instead reached out and pulled him into a hug.

"Gil! It's been forever!" The red eyes sparked with recognition, and he smirked.

"Ja, ja, Alfie! Lud's been telling me good things about you!" The entire time he talked, Gil, or Gilbert Beilschimdt, bustled around the mini kitchen and handed Alfred a hotdog just the way the blonde enjoyed them. He grinned, leaning against his workspace slash counter, "You still the top bouncer or is Lud being a happiness Nazi again?"

The American laughed at the little joke. Gilbert, and many of his friends, poked fun at the fact that Ludwig was the stereotypical German, much like their father. The fact that Gilbert was Ludwig's older brother only served to make it funnier with the blonde was teased for his actions. No hard feelings were ever meant, of course. "Oh, ja," Alfred replied, his German accent terrible enough to make Gilbert snort and cover his mouth out of respect, "Az long az I remain kind und caring." He licked his well-tanned fingers before waving a hand around, "So, what are you doing here? I thought this place was closed back when we were in middle school."

The albino shrugged, "Ja, well, Katyusha bought it and tried to fix it up about... two years ago now." His infamous Cheshire-like smile spread over his features as he held his hand before his chest at arms length, "She's the one with the weapons of mass destruction bouncing around." Alfred almost died, he was laughing so hard and trying to remain upright. "Thought of that one myself!" Gilbert proclaimed proudly, nodding.

He finally calmed down and pulled a plastic chair up so he could sit and listen to the German (or _Prussian_ as he so often explained) blather on. Alfred really had missed him, since Gilbert'd had to drop out of high school in order to pay Ludwig's way through it and get started on the blonde's college fees. "And I know Kat and Natalia through my old job. So when 'Lia let it slip that Kat blew every thing on this, I was first to sign up. We're kinda working for free until she can really get it running."

Turning his blonde head towards a low scraping sound, Alfred pointed to the rink, "I thought I was the only one here..."

The "Prussian" rolled his shoulders as he returned to counting, "Only one guy stops by here now. Kat's little brother. I never catch his name, but she says he's about a month or so younger then you. She also says he went to the same high school. He's going to... mmm, which college... H University? I think he works down the street at the bookstore."

"H University?" Alfred questioned. Since he attended himself, he knew just how expensive it was. "How'd he get in and stay in?"

"Oh, a scholarship. Something to do with art. 'Lia never says and Kat can't pronounce anything in English easily."

Nodding absently, he left Gilbert to finish whatever he was doing now that involved so much clattering and rustling while he ventured down some steps and leaned against the side of the rink. On the far side was a tall figure. He couldn't really tell at this distance, so he decided to move closer. Half-loping along the far side, he stopped about half way and watched the guy leap and land backwards. _Cool, I guess?_

He sighed and looked at the ice below him before glancing up and nearly falling over. His brain was struggling to take everything in. A dark purple sweater patterned with lavender diamonds across the front, dark jeans hugging muscled thighs, an old faded pink-tan scarf around a slim neck. _Clothing down..._ Damn, this guy was pale. About as pale as Gilbert. His platinum hair was kinda like snow, and his nose was a little big. Just big enough to look kinda cute.

Alfred tried to keep himself calm, but all he succeeded in doing was staring into the most clear and, he had to face it, beautifully violet eyes he'd ever seen. He didn't even realize the guy was talking until he repeated himself, cleared annoyed, "I said, who let you in?" _Oh, God, if you sold that you could make a killing,_ the American mentally muttered, referring the guy's voice.

"Oh, uhhh, the chick at the front...? With, um, the boobs?" he responded uncouthly.

Pretty purple eyes narrowed at him, "Katyusha is her name, and you would do well to remember it, da?" Alfred back offed, raising his hands in a sign of surrender, intending to apologize. Instead, the pale guy continued, "At least you actually spent money. She has a hard enough time when it's only me. Your name?"

Alfred grinned, "Alfred F. Jones, one hundred percent American, bro!" He held out his hand and earned a disapproving look.

"I am not your 'brother'. Ivan Braginski." Alfred moved his hand in a circular motion, displaying that he wanted to know more, "Ah, my ancestry? I am Russian."

"_What?_ Dude, that's fucking awesome. So, do you speak it fluently and shit like that?!"

"Da."

If his smile had gotten any bigger, Alfred felt as if his face would've broken, "Dude! _Dude!_ You gotta teach it to me some time! When're you free?"

Ivan glared into his cup of coffee, trying to tune out the brat's inane babbling. He had only shown up because he wanted some peace. Some quiet. And instead, he had a superhero fanatic who had no idea what he was talking about. Half the words he released were pronounced wrong. And he claimed to be _American_. He slowly quelled his desire to strangle the blonde and cut through the chatter easily.

"Why are you still talking?"

The boy, _Alfred_, rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, "Hahaha... Well, when I get nervous, I talk a lot... I guess it's me trying to keep conversation going, even if its nonexistent."

"Indeed."

Alfred ran his fingers up and down his own cup of coffee and glanced up, "Sooo_ooo_ooo. You got any parents or cousins or something?" He immediately regretted asking when the Russian began glaring. If looks could kill, he'd be lying on the ground with various bloody wounds and his soul would be joining half his family in the stars.

"Da. I _had_ family. Now it is only Katyusha, Natalia, and myself. Katyusha is thirty-four. I am twenty-three. Natalia is seventeen. I am roughly six foot seven. I was born on the thirtieth of next month. I am an immigrant, and I speak fluent Russian, Ukrainian, and Belarusian. Will you go away and leave me alone, or do I need to recite my family tree?"

The blonde appeared thoroughly awed and was at a loss for words, "Coo_ooool_..."

Ivan jumped and looked over when that obnoxious German Katyusha had hired sat beside him, "Good luck, ice-boy. Once he's hooked, he doesn't shut up. I might as well introduce you two, since I know you both, though not as well as I'd like to in your case. Alfie, ice-boy. Ice-boy, Alfie. You two attend the same college, I think."

Ivan slowly shook the well-tanned hand and inwardly groaned. _I am going to regret this greatly..._

**Well, there's chapter one. Poor Ivan. He's got a chatty Alfred attached to him FOREVER. *evil laughter* I'm happy with this, and I hope you are, too. Sorry if it's a little short and I screwed up somewhere...**

**Review, and I'll see whether or not I can slip fluff in the next chapter. So review, please?**


	2. Annoyance

**Well~, I happen to be heading to New Mexico, though by the time I get this loaded on to FF, I'll already be there. How exciting! I happen to be a native of New Mexico, born and raised there. I'm now Texan, and I enjoy it, but New Mexico is just a nice little state with a lot of heat and good chili. I got a couple of reviews, and that I am happy for! I might honor them at the end of the chappie or something, 'cause I'm pretty sure you all came here for smut and/or funny RusAme dynamics. Let's see what I turn out and let's hope it's good.**

**I do not own Hetalia or it's characters. If I did, **_**every**_** episode would contain RusAme fluffiness.**

**Warnings:Slight fluff, gay feline(s?), randomness  
**

**-0o0o0-**

Chapter Two: _Annoyance_

"Heeey! Ivan! Hey! Hey! Hey! Ivaaan!" _Pitter, patter, slap, slap, skid_. "Ivaaan, wait up! Heeey! Hey! Hey! Duuude, hello!" _Screeech, slam, slap, slap, slap, skid_.

The blonde's next series of yells was abruptly ended when a large and heavy dictionary was thrown into his face. Alfred fell backwards, landing on his bum as he cupped his very broken nose and looked up at his attacker. Deep purple eyes narrowed at him in clear annoyance. He was wearing what looked like some kind of old-fashioned over coat, heavy winter boots, and that old scarf of his.

"Be silent, Alfred. I am busy and do not wish to speak with you." He said each word firmly and trying very carefully to keep from kicking the blonde. It was very hard to believe that he was actually older by about a month. At least, that's what Katyusha had said. She may have misunderstood, as she usually did. He had to be at least a year younger, if not more.

"What? Oh, it's cool, bro! I'll just wait 'til you're done, and then we can grab a bite to eat at SubWay or something… Whatcha doing, anyway?" He hopped up, sniffing and letting his nose dry. "Imma have to stop by the nurse later to make sure nothing is too badly broken. You gotta be careful, Ivan. Accidentally letting go of books like that can hurt people! But I'm fine 'cause I'm the hero!"

_I wonder how great a hero you would be if left in the hospital with several broken bones…_ Ivan mused as he scooped up his dictionary, placed it in his bag, and continued walking. "Perhaps you should seek the nurse now. I do not wish to eat until school is over, and that is not for at least three more hours. As for what I am doing, I am heading to my next class. Leave me alone."

He was met with a well-muscled arm around his shoulders that tugged him down to Alfred's height. "Ivan, we've got the same class! Man, you sure are forgetful. Here, lemme carry your stuff for ya!" Ivan finally turned around fully to confront the American, only to find that he was already carrying at least three other bags. "C'mon, c'mon, we don't wanna be late, do we?"

The Russian glanced around the hall and saw three… four classmates without their bags, chatting together and occasionally pointing at Alfred. "…Nyet, I will carry my own bag. You look a little weighed down as is." His blue eyes sparkled once he waved Ivan's words off.

"Aw, this is nothing for a hero. Besides, it's the least I can do for friends!"

Ivan not so much saw as felt the lie that Alfred was telling. He was not happy. And those people were not his friends. Without any proof besides his gut, Ivan could only assume that they may be holding something against him. _What is the phrase… blackmail? Da…_ He turned and motioned him along, "We should hurry."

After about thirty steps, Ivan glanced back, making sure that no one was following. He proceeded to step into a unused classroom and pulled Alfred in by the wrist. "Put the bags down." Alfred smiled cheerily, about to question him, when Ivan ripped one off, nearly tearing the strap. "What is going on, Alfred?"

The blonde unceremoniously dropped every one of the bags and kicked one before smiling again, "Nothing's going on, big guy! I was just carrying bags for some friends." _Liar, _Ivan thought, grinding his teeth. What an annoyance. Even when he tried to be civil, people tended to avoid him or not answer. He knew Alfred wash't scared of him, but it still pissed him off. "I'm the hero, so I have to stay strong."

_Aha…_ he deduced. After a moment of thought, he slowly patted Alfred's head, "You can trust me, Hero. I can keep secrets very well." The blonde slowly looked up, his eyes watery and lifeless. He slowly shook his head and dropped to his knees. "Alfre-"

Ivan suddenly clamped a hand over his mouth and bit his finger harshly. Alfred's fingers had deftly slipped under his over coat and were now wiggling around in his pants. "I can't really say, Ivan. If I did, they'd leak it to the whole school." He unzipped his old jeans, dragging them and Ivan's underwear down around his ankles. Ivan suddenly shoved him back, glaring.

"You do not order me order, Alfred. Tell me what is wrong. I have not known you long, but this itself disturbs me greatly." Alfred closed his eyes, fighting to remain tear free and knowing that he probably would have a few leak out anyway. "_Tell me._"

"Okay! Fine!" Ivan slowly moved away from him and began tugging on his underwear. Once it was restored, he slipped on his pants and took a seat at one of the old desks. Alfred sat at one right beside him, running a hand through his hair. "I… was in a relationship with one of my teachers last year. It… wasn't my idea. After a while, I had to tell someone, and that son of a bitch leaked it to everyone. At least, to the staff and several students."

Ivan slowly nodded. "So, you are a slave of sorts. If you do as these people say, you do not get in trouble. And you attacked me in the hopes that if I was tainted, I would not press further." Alfred looked away in shame, running a hand through his hair.

"Y- Yeah…" he whispered, trying to stem the tears. "I… After the first time, I thought it was over…. But now all the teachers know that if you want a good fuck, you just call Alfred Jones. And if I get caught with another student… Well, yeah…" He choked and covered his eyes, "I'm royally fucked, okay?"

Ivan felt a sudden urge. Not knowing whether it was right or wrong, he leaned forward and kissed the boy softly. He was a little new, but it wasn't hard because Alfred let him back away with only a bridge of saliva to connect them. "…Ivan," he whispered, beginning to pull the boy from his seat. "I'll make you feel good…"

**-0o0o0-**

Ivan sat up suddenly, panting uncontrollably and shaking his head. His limbs were shaking, and he wasn't quite sure but he thought he might have come in his sleep. On his right, a loud purr was heard, and he carefully scooped up his large and fluffy cat. "…Can you sense my thoughts, Vodka?" he questioned. All he heard in reply was an even louder purr. "Da, I thought so."

With some difficulty, Ivan carefully stood and slowly made his way to the bathroom. Vodka hopped onto the toilet seat and batted at the hand towel near by. Sitting on the edge of the tub, Ivan slowly slid his hands through his hair and groaned. Ever since their meeting, he'd been having increasingly strange dreams. They usually centered on Alfred being in some kind of trouble and he would comfort him in a certain fashion.

What was truly annoying and was beginning to frighten Ivan to no end was that there was no rhyme or reason to the scenarios, or the sex itself. Nyet, it was entirely focused on him and Alfred. For example, in one, he had been a slave, and the American a pirate captain. While the contact had been delicious, he was always waking up alone with nothing to commemorate the hell he was living but an aching hard on or sticky sheets. By Ivan's logic, if Alfred was the one arousing him, then Alfred should be the one to take care of it.

_However, _he groaned, fisting a hand in his hair and tugging sharply, _I am not allowed to do so. That is final. The end._ If only his body was able to think as forwardly as his brain. Vodka brushed his arm, meowing softly. Oh, they were very much alike, he and this cat. He decided to focus instead on comforting the feline, rather than pleasure himself.

Though it was very rare, Ivan was almost certain that Vodka was actually gay. He'd never shown interest in other cats but males, and, well… He'd had to break up more than a few moments between felines. Reminded him a little bit of himself, when he had been younger. Confused, stupid, and younger. And he had gotten caught often.

Too often.

Shaking his head slowly, Ivan let Vodka leap out of his lap. He reached over to his discarded jeans from the night before and pulled out a worn scrap of paper. A phone number. The tall college student headed towards his bed and scooped his phone up from its charger. After entering the simple numbers, he settled on top of his sheets to await an answer.

"…Mn, Alfred speaking…" Ivan quickly covered his mouth to prevent a gasp. His dreaming mind certainly must still be at work, otherwise there was no way Alfred could manage to sound so good. "Haaallo?"

Ivan shook himself roughly, "Da, it is Ivan."

"Oh! For realz, dude?!"

The Russian felt a sense of relief. So that voice and tone had been his imagination after all. In all honesty, he preferred annoying Alfred to the one that appeared in his dreams. "I already stated that it was me. I wanted to arrange a play-date of sorts. Gilbert mentioned that you own a cat."

There was a clattering a muffled yell before Alfred responded, "Yeah, yeah! I got a cat. Dunno what he is, but his name is Hero! Hang on, hang on, he's right here. Lemme…" Ivan jumped at the tone of Alfred's phone switching to speaker and heard a loud meow followed by a high pitched whine. "I love you, too, Hero. You're so cuddly and soft, yes, you are. Pudgy kitty~, pudgy kitteh~…"

"Alfred," Ivan barked, not wishing to listen to the American prattle on.

"What? Oh, sorry. Anyway, what's your cat? Or where or whatever?"

Violet eyes scanned the room, and Ivan was surprised when Vodka leaped into his lap and nosed the phone. "Ah, here he is. I named him Vodka. I believe he is a mix between a Russian Blue and something, ah… heavier." He stroked the feline before mimicking Alfred and turning on the speaker. His cat meowed in slight confusion and jumped when Hero meowed back.

Ivan was not prepared for the immediate response Vodka had for the call, patting at the phone and mewing frantically. "What are you…? Vodka, bad cat, down! _Водка__!_" The fluffy male settled down slowly, purring sporadically. Ivan made sure he wouldn't have a repeat of the episode before speaking softly, "I apologize. He suddenly gained an interest in my phone."

Alfred panted a little, "Y- Yeah, same here! Hero freaking tackled my face. I'll call you… Nah, I'll catch you at the rink. And I'll bring Hero. I know a pet spot down the street, so we can meet there and see if they like each other before actually letting them loose. I've never seen him act this way…"

"Da, good bye?" Ivan said quickly, hanging up because the furry creature in his lap was becoming restless. "Водка. Успокойтесь, there is nothing to be this excited about. Успокойтесь." Vodka began kneading his thigh and purring loudly, as if to say _there is something to be excited about_. It was rather strange, whenever his pet seemed to convey his thoughts through mannerism and actions. "We shall see what happens tomorrow, da?"

_Meow!_

**-0o0o0-**

**OKAY! WELL! UM… Weirdness here, yeah? I found out that you can count multiple freaking stories for Nanowrimo, so I added this to the count.**

**Which is what spawned the first, crackalicious bit.**

**I weird myself out sometimes.**

**BUT HEY! Look on the bright side~. You got some minor fluff. And you got some kitties. They make everything good. And fluffy. And fun. I think you people see where Vodka was going with that sudden outburst of must have. If not, well, next chappie will be cute.**

**Ivan's having some naughty dreams about Alfie… Right now, he gets to blame the fact that Alfred won't leave him alone, never listens, looks kinda good… *evil laughter* It's too late, my little Russian. You're doomed.**

**As for the absolutely **_**beautiful**_** people who reviewed and made this crack possible…**

_**NerdyWriter:**_** Oh, yes. I love humor and yaoi. It is such a lovely combination. Just… *squeals* I shall continue this crack. And let's hope my writing improves…**

_**Niji-chi: **_**YUSH. FELLOW SLACKER. *though I wrote like 10,000 words on the train…* OMFG, I'm so glad you like it… Hope you liked this chapter~! Ivan will continue to be great. And I can only hope I can prevent myself from making Alfie **_**too**_** angsty… Thanks! Though things might change once I had some GerIta to the mix…**


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